Amber and Blue
by Anne Camp aka Obi-quiet
Summary: The first time Himura Kenshin heard of the kami named Yato was at a road-side inn that he'd stopped at on his way to joining the Imperialists. It wouldn't be the last. (Gen)
1. Chapter 1

The first time Himura Kenshin heard of the kami named Yato was at a road-side inn that he'd stopped at on his way to joining the Imperialists. He was doing some work in exchange for being able to stay in the stables for the night when he overheard the owner say something about the kami that would grant any wish as long as you paid...no matter what.

Kenshin himself wasn't sure if he believed that kami could do things like that. He wasn't even completely sure Kami existed, although Shishou had insisted that some kami out there was looking out for him after everything he'd been through. Still, the owner insisted that this 'Yato-sama' would go so far as to even kill people if someone so wished. All they had to do was offer 5 mon.

At that, the person he was speaking to—a neighbor if Kenshin had heard correctly—said that kami like that weren't worth giving wishes to. They brought calamity and fear and anyone who bowed to such a being would only regret it in the future.

After that, they turned their talk to other things. Kenshin, too, returned to his work. He slept in relative safety and warmth that night without giving another thought to the conversation.

The next day, Kenshin got his first real taste of the corruption running rampant in the Shogunte's system. He had just bid the inn owner farewell when a group of young, brash men with topknots and katanas strapped to their side barged into the inn, wrecking just about everything in their path all while demanding the owner's finest sake. Due to the time of day and their rudeness, the owner refused.

This, of course, did not go over well with the Samurai, who proceeded to tear the entire place apart.

Kenshin had originally left Shishou to fight for the people of the land. That had led to the Imperialist ideal. He'd also reasoned that they would actually accept him—a child that had nothing to offer but a loyal sword—more easily. He hadn't understood why the people had risen up against the supposedly weak rulers of the land. All he knew was that they had made some unpopular decisions that he fundamentally disagreed with.

It hadn't been personal then, but watching the men destroy the inn owner's life in response to their own folly struck a chord with him. He stepped onto the floor, eyes narrowed in concentration. It would take all of his skill to slay men like these.

And then he realized what he'd thought.

Slay.

He'd never killed anyone before! He faltered for a moment. He didn't want to cross that bridge, not after what Shishou had said. But if he didn't do something...

The decision was taken from him when one of the men spotted him and approached.

"Who are you?" he asked with a sneer after noting Kenshin's stance. "Some runt from some backwater clan that barely has any nobility at all? Ha! What's the matter? Do you think you could go against us?"

"He looks like a rurouni," another one laughed.

"A rurouni?" a third cut in. "I doubt he's even that. Look at his clothing! Peasant grade at best."

"Then I guess we'll have to kill him and anyone who's associated with him," the obvious leader said as he pulled out his sword. He stood slightly taller than the others and his clothing seemed to be of finer quality as well, but other than that he wasn't particularly memorable. Actually, all Kenshin really remembered was the smooth way he drew his sword that spoke of long hours of practice. The others followed suit with varying degrees of skill and confidence.

Kenshin swallowed harshly and stepped back into his fighting stance, hilt in hand and ready to draw. The men just laughed. He didn't know if he could do this. His Shishou's words rang through his head over and over again, as if he stood right behind Kenshin, arms folded and frowning down at his 'baka deshi'.

Just before the men charged him, he heard the innkeeper from off to the side.

"Please, Yato-sama, give him the strength he needs to kill these men!"

Kenshin swallowed again. His hand shook on his hilt and the Samurai noticed.

"Are you even sure he's worth it, Kikuchi-sama?" one of the men laughed. "He's so scared."

"Even brats like him can grow up to be a problem," the leader—Kikuchi apparently—replied. Kenshin wondered why they hadn't charged yet. Probably their way of intimidation and torture. He refused to let it get to him (at least anymore than it already had), continuing to stare them down.

"Alright, boys! Let's teach this brat a lesson!" And they finally charged forward, swords drawn. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw something fly into the air from the innkeeper's fingers. Why had he tossed a coin? Kenshin ignored it, gritting his teeth as instinct kicked in. His sword flashed out, thankfully not cutting anyone but knocking several attacks aside. Then he had to duck and roll away from the rest of them and brought his sword up to catch another attack. He parried and moved again, frown deepening all the while. His style was a one-shot style. Yes, he was good at swordplay, but he wasn't _used_ to this and he certainly wasn't used to contending with so many at once.

Still he fought them, doing his best to at least allow the innkeeper to leave.

Then one managed to slip past his guard and he had to jump to the side, feeling it cut through his shikusho and into his skin. It was just a scratch, really, but it showed who would win. His jaw tightened even further and he felt his teeth grind. Why was he having such a hard time with this? He'd thought he could take them! He _should_ be able to take them! So why...?

"You'll never beat anyone like that," a cold voice suddenly said, causing the samurai to look around. Then one of them fell to the ground, and Kenshin could already see the blood splattered across the floor and nearby tables. The other men, just as confused as Kenshin felt it seemed, backed up in fear.

It didn't take long for them to spot a man Kenshin had never seen before standing next to where the innkeeper crouched, hand held out as if just catching something. The coin, perhaps? When had he come in?

"Who are you?" one of the men demanded. The newcomer ignored him, eyes focused on Kenshin, who had to gasp. He had the deepest eyes Kenshin had ever seen, and even more surprising, they were blue; not like a flower or even the sky but like the ocean. Somehow Kenshin felt that if he kept looking he might lose his soul to those eyes, but he didn't want to admit that the gaze scared him. Otherwise the man looked unremarkable, if thin and wiry.

"Aren't you planning on joining the war?" The newcomer asked Kenshin who jumped in surprise. "With resolve like that, you should just go home. You'll do no one any good the way you are now."

Kenshin felt his chest tighten at the man's tone and he glanced down at the sword in his hand. The words struck him like a punch to the gut. How did this man know about Kenshin? How did he seem to know what to say to cut right to the heart of the matter? And yet somehow the red-head felt he shouldn't be surprised, even if he couldn't figure out why.

"Must be his friend," Kikuchi spoke up suddenly. "Kill him too!" They charged forward again, but the man kept his eyes on Kenshin.

"Well?" he asked.

The red-head felt sick—sick at this man who knew too much, sick at these brawlers who simply wanted to exercise (abuse) their limited authority, but mostly sick at himself. Why had he left his shishou? Just to go running home with his tail between his legs at the first sign of trouble? To die here without even getting the chance to make a difference? To lose to these unworthy men?

He felt his resolve harden and the world seemed to move in slow motion as he sheathed his sword. Really, this shouldn't be difficult. Trained as they may be, they still had so many openings to exploit. Kenshin had avoided taking advantage of them before because almost all of them would end with a fatality. But that was life, wasn't it? And that was war too. If he couldn't stand and fight here, then he had no business even trying to help.

He felt a sort of calm come over him and his hand shot out in the practiced movement at the nearest person—Kikuchi. Almost before he'd realized, it was over. He could practically feel the man's shock behind him. He must have realized something was wrong, but it would still take a few moments for the knowledge of his own imminent death to kick in. Kenshin didn't waste any movement, but continued forward, ducking swings, rolling in between the attackers and using every opening they gave him.

The entire fight (no, slaughter) had lasted maybe a minute. At the end, he stood near the door and realized none of his attackers remained standing. He glanced down at his sword and frowned. He'd have to clean it before he sheathed it again. For a moment he wondered how he would take care of that in a battle. Would he have to carry something around to wipe it down with in between every fight? Probably. The quickest way to ruin a blade was to—

He turned around and subconsciously his hand opened, dropping the sword on the ground as he surveyed his handiwork. Red. Red everywhere. A dark, deep red that grew in puddles under the bodies on the floor and lay in splatters on the tables and chairs. And it _smelled._ How had he not noticed that metallic taste on the air? The sickness that churned in his stomach suddenly returned, swelling rapidly and he had to rush outside the door, vomiting the contents of his stomach onto the ground next to the worn pathway leading up to the inn. His knees shook and he wanted to collapse. His hands felt dirty and he realized he had the red splatters on his own clothes too.

He'd killed those men. He'd taken their lives—something that could never be returned. How old had they been? His age? Maybe a few years older? They hadn't been soldiers, they had been young and stupid but now they wouldn't ever have a chance to grow out of that. He'd robbed them of that.

Kenshin kept gagging, although nothing seemed to want to come up anymore.

Then he felt a hand on his shoulder. The vomiting ceased and he took a deep breath. His body still felt weak, and his hands still shook, but the presence on his shoulder grounded him and he concentrated on it.

Finally, he turned to the presence by his side and his eyes widened. It was the man from before.

"Better," was all he said. Then he tossed what looked like two coins into the air, caught them and moved them to the bag on his waist.

"Wait," Kenshin said, ignoring how his voice sounded raw and harsh. "Who are you?"

The man turned around and raised an eyebrow in amusement. It seemed strange on the otherwise stoic face. "Who am I?" he repeated.

Kenshin took a closer look. He noticed the strange man's clothes. While plain, they did seem higher quality, and he looked so flawless, with smooth skin that would make any woman jealous. Even though he would not stand out in a crowd, he seemed a little too healthy and a little too perfect, almost ethereal...like a...

"Kami," he whispered.

The man smiled wryly and it all came together in Kenshin's head.

"Y-yato-sama?" he asked tentatively. So kami really did exist and they really did grant wishes? Somehow, this felt huge to Kenshin. And he'd intervened because of the innkeeper? That made sense, he supposed. The inn owner's words from earlier suddenly ran through his mind. _Give him the strength he needs to kill these men._

A bubble of hope began to form in his gut. "So that was your strength in there?" He could blame all of that on the kami? It hadn't been him actually killing? He hoped not.

Yato-sama's smile vanished, replaced by an expression of annoyance. He was so expressive—such a change from the stone face he'd had when Kenshin had seen him inside the inn. "No. You did that on your own."

The bubble popped and Kenshin's sick feeling returned. "But, the innkeeper—"

"You always had the physical strength to kill them. You just needed the resolve."

But he hadn't _wanted_ to kill them... And yet, he had. They'd deserved it, hadn't they? He wasn't sure, and if he wasn't sure than he shouldn't have killed them, right? The argument continued inside his head, not helping him in the slightest, and he had a feeling he wouldn't find a solution any time soon. Would this be how he felt when he fought for the Imperialists? He didn't much care for that thought.

"You look like you might need me again soon," the kami pointed out. Then he shook his head and turned to walk off. "Call on me again, then, if you remember."

That last line did not sit well with Kenshin.

"What do you mean?" he asked, forcing himself to sound firmer than he felt.

Yato-sama paused and glanced at him over his shoulder for a moment, studying Kenshin. Then he seemed to shrug as if to say 'why not?'

"Most people don't remember their interactions with kami. The innkeeper will only remember you and the dead men. I'll fade from your memory as soon as I leave and you'll only have a vague impression that I helped out." He grunted in frustration. Apparently he didn't much care for the idea of not being remembered about as much as Kenshin didn't care for the idea of forgetting. Oh, he wanted to forget what he'd done...but that would go against everything Shishou had taught him. Honor the dead, right?

He flashed back to a forest floor, littered with the bodies of the dead—slave, merchant and bandit alike. He alone stood in the midst of them, the sole survivor. He'd buried their dead with honor they probably didn't deserve and he remembered to this day the face of every single person he'd dug a grave for. He even still prayed for their souls sometimes.

No, forgetting would dishonor their memories and would hinder him from being able to draw on that resolve again. If that happened...would he go crawling back to Shishou's mountain?

That thought pushed him over the edge.

"I don't want to forget," he blurted.

The kami didn't look impressed. "Sorry, kid, unless you have the sight—which you don't—there's nothing we can do."

Kenshin blinked at him for a few moments before he thrust his hand into the pouch he carried inside his shikusho.

"You can grant any wish, right?"

Yato-sama frowned and didn't answer. Kenshin continued anyway.

"Grant me the sight," he said and held a 5 mon piece out. It was one of the few he had left. Yato-sama frowned.

"Are you sure you want it? There are monsters out there—spiritual monsters that will show you no mercy."

Kenshin blinked at him for several seconds. "Is there any kind of shield against them?"

Yato-sama's frown deepened. "I suppose I _could_ cast a shield on you...or make it temporary. You'd only be able to see when you truly wished to." He glanced at the coin in Kenshin's hand, "but it would cost another 5 mon."

The boy didn't even hesitate. He undid the string purse and dumped it's contents onto his palm, then he held it out. A total of 6 coins—all 1 to 5 mon pieces—lay on his dirty hand glinting in the sunlight.

The kami glanced at them and then up at Kenshin. "When you find your resolve, you don't lose it easily, do you."

The red-head didn't answer. He wanted to shift under the cool blue gaze, look down and focus on the worn dirt outside the inn, and yet part of him didn't dare look away. The kami in the stories he'd heard had a bad habit of disappearing whenever a human took their eyes off of them. So he forced himself to stand as firm as he could, hand held out.

Finally Yato-sama sighed. "Very well." He grabbed the money on Kenshin's hand. "Don't say I didn't warn you, kid."

With that, he reached a hand out and placed them over Kenshin's eye. He said something in a language that Kenshin couldn't understand. When he took his hand away, nothing seemed different. Except for...what was that floating over at the edge of the path a few meters away? It was small and it...glowed? It suddenly hit Kenshin as to just what he may have done. Now he could see an entire world that many others couldn't. He gulped and looked back at the kami.

"It's activated now," Yato-sama said matter-of-factly. "Your eyes will change color whenever you activate it too, so be aware. You need to be calm to deactivate it. Don't use it all the time or you'll attract the monsters, got it?"

The boy ran through the instructions in his mind and nodded. Then he bowed. "Thank you, Yato-sama," he said, unsure if he should be relieved or worried at this new turn of events.

"Yeah, yeah. Call on me again sometime, K? It was fun."

When Kenshin looked up again, he stood alone. For several seconds, he stood there, just staring at the place Yato-sama had been. Then he took a deep breath and turned back to the inn. He may as well help them clean up.

xXx

The innkeeper's wife had offered him new clothing in thanks for what he'd done. They also offered him a rather large bag of food that should hold him over until he reached the temporary recruitment gathering nearby. According to them, he was lucky. The Imperialists couldn't hold the gatherings often for fear of being found out and eliminated.

Kenshin helped them bury the dead away from the inn and deep in the forest. Then he helped them wipe up the blood stains and try to disguise them. If anyone came after the group and realized what had happened, they might destroy the inn as well, so they took as many precautions as they could, destroying all evidence as best they could. Then they burned any clothes with blood on them and saw Kenshin off.

Funny, even though he'd washed himself thoroughly and wore new clothes, he could swear he could still smell their blood...

xXx

AN: The idea wouldn't leave me alone, ok?

Looking for a beta if you're interested. This shouldn't be too long.


	2. Chapter 2

_Not Beta Read._

The first time Kenshin actually called upon Yato-sama was just before his first mission as a hitokiri. He called on him for the simple reason that he'd become a nervous wreck. He hadn't even been in battle yet, but here he was about to _assassinate_ someone who stood in their way—to kill them simply because they lived and believed differently.

If he thought that killing the boys in the inn had been hard, this reached levels of nigh-impossibility. At this point, he was seriously considering throwing his pride to the wind and high-tailing it back to Shishou after all.

That was why he activated his 'sight' and called upon the kami, ignoring the strange creatures that came into view around him. They didn't seem to even sense anything about him if he didn't pay them any attention. With how some of them looked—their sheer size alone at times—this was not something he particularly wanted to change. Instead, he focused on the money in his hand.

"Yato-sama, please grant me the strength to fulfill my mission," he whispered to the 5 mon coin just before throwing it into the air. Then he clapped his hands twice and bowed his head.

For a moment, nothing happened. The coin hung in the air—he could practically feel it—the breeze of the dark night whistled through the leaves of the trees growing in the area but otherwise the night remained still. It was a back-alley in a rich part of Kyoto and Kenshin felt out of place just standing there, but he didn't open his eyes. He wasn't a hundred percent sure the kami would hear him, but he also didn't see a reason for him to not come. He was pretty sure, but still...

"You finally called me," the familiar voice had Kenshin looking up and he almost melted with relief. It had worked. "I was worried you'd forgotten about me anyway."

The red-head felt his relief dissipate, only to be replaced with guilt. He looked down, unable to meet the other's gaze. Honestly, although he didn't want to admit it, he had almost forgotten. If he hadn't been on the verge of desperation he doubted the thought would even cross his mind. He didn't understand. He had the sight, and he wanted to remember the kami, and while he could most of the time, usually thoughts of him liked to just slip away. He suspected that was due to the 'temporary' nature of his 'gift'.

"Of course not," he finally whispered, hoping he didn't sound as ashamed as he felt.

The being studied Kenshin for several seconds before he sighed. "Alright, kid, what is it you want?"

The red-head couldn't help his surprise and looked up on instinct. "Don't you already know?"

Yato-sama shrugged. "I know the gist, but I want to hear it from you."

Kenshin didn't much like the idea of actually having to _talk_ about it, and he second-guessed his decision to call upon the deity. Still, what was done was done, and he needed to do _something_ because he couldn't just continue like this _._

So he opened his mouth, and it all came spilling out in a rush. "Well, they accepted me into the Imperialist ranks, as I hoped they would. It was...surprisingly easy. I guess Shishou taught me better than he thought. But then..." he paused and licked his lips, somehow not caring how openly he wore his emotions at this point (Yato-sama probably knew about them anyway, and that knowledge helped), "then they asked me to be a hitokiri. I accepted, but I don't know if I can do this. It isn't like the inn. They aren't going to instigate a fight, I will. They're not necessarily cruel or vile either, they just _are._ Like any other being. They may not even have time to draw their sword if I do well enough...but that's killing in cold blood, Yato-sama!"

There, it was all out in the open now and he couldn't help but just stare imploringly up at the kami whose countenance didn't look much older than Kenshin (but how old was he anyway? A hundred years? A thousand?). Those impossibly blue eyes scrutinized the human for several seconds before he sighed and shook his head.

"I may not be the best person to speak to you about this," he finally responded.

Kenshin felt his heart seize up. "What? Why not?" He didn't care if he was being rude, he needed to know that this was alright. Somehow he knew that Yato-sama didn't really care about his straight-forward attitude either, which helped give him more confidence in his words.

The kami frowned. "Kami don't die like humans do, so I can't understand. It's that simple."

That...made absolutely no sense in Kenshin's mind. How could a being—any being—not understand the idea of moving onto the unknown? Usually without choice. Kenshin wasn't really afraid of death, but he understood why so many thought it _terrifying_. And here he was, bringing that terror to others...

"Oh," he said, though, because if the kami couldn't understand it, then what could Kenshin say that would make him? He wasn't that presumptuous. Still, he couldn't help the disappointment and uncertainty that rose inside him.

"Besides," Yato-sama went on, suddenly looking as if he wasn't seeing anything around them at all, lost to some aspect of his nigh-unfathomable past, no doubt, "I was born to kill. It's part of my nature as a Kami of Calamity. It's no big deal to me."

Kenshin didn't really know what to say to that. This was the kami he'd begun to come to? Did he really want to be associated with such a being? And yet, something about Yato-sama called to him. They seemed so similar for some reason he could not yet place.

After a few seconds (an eternity) of uneasy silence, Yato-sama sighed. "Alright, alright. Let me put it this way, kid: what are your priorities?"

Kenshin frowned and opened his mouth, but nothing came out. So Yato-sama continued.

"Which is more important to you? Not killing, or not helping out in the war?"

His frown deepened and he closed his mouth, not willing to answer this time. That wasn't a very fair question.

Apparently Yato-sama seemed to sense Kenshin's stubbornness because his expression fell into a deadpan. "You'd better figure it out soon, kid, or all you're gonna do is get yourself killed. Also, think about it this way—can anyone else do your job?"

Kenshin felt sure that there were other, far more skilled swordsmen out there, but yet Katsura-san had asked him specifically before he'd even had any battle experience...

"I know these kinds of jobs, and I know humans don't take well to them. I may not get it, but I know that much at least. Would it be easy to fill your place?"

No. He could already tell that most people wouldn't do this if they could help it. With this kind of pressure, Kenshin didn't blame them. He looked down again, gritting his teeth.

"Do you believe in your cause?"

Kenshin set his jaw even firmer. Yes. Yes he did. The Shogunte was corrupt and needed to be destroyed. The upper government wasn't just ignorant when it came to their 'subjects', they didn't _care_ about the people at all—didn't want to even try and understand anyone beneath their supposed station—and so _something_ needed to change. Otherwise too many people remained in pain, unable to change their fate. Kenshin couldn't accept that.

Again, Yato-sama sensed his answer. "Then why are you doubting yourself again?"

"Because its murder," Kenshin responded, voice quiet but steady because he could already feel himself giving in. He wasn't sure whether he should be relieved or horrified at that realization. "Just because they believe differently than I do...does that mean they have to die?"

The kami folded his arms in annoyance. "Fine, let's put it yet _another_ way. What will happen if you _don't_ do this?"

Kenshin bit his lip as he considered that. Katsura-san would be extremely disappointed in him and would have to find another hitokiri. The Imperialist ideal would be set back and more innocent people would remain under the thumb of the Samurai and Shogunte. And it would be all his fault because he couldn't stomach killing one man.

For the first time, he felt guilt in the other direction. If he _didn't_ do this, it wouldn't just affect him personally, it would be a major loss for Japan. He hated lose-lose situations, but that didn't mean he could avoid them forever. He couldn't just walk away from this. He'd told Katsura he would do this...

He felt his resolve hardening again, and yet, at the realization he'd just come to, he felt something inside of him wither. This would change him. He didn't know how, but he knew it would...and not for the better. But it was his soul, or the lives of countless innocents. Really, when he thought about it like that, there was no contest.

"Thank you, Yato-sama," he said, noting how his own voice sounded steely and hard. The calmness he'd gained at the inn had returned. He couldn't help but feel grateful for it. He stayed bowed like that for several seconds. When he stood again, feeling far more ready for this than he had before, he found a surprising amount of trepidation on the deity's face. Funny, he'd expected Yato-sama to just vanish as he had last time.

"Look, kid," the dark-haired being said almost hesitantly, "I could do it for you. 5 more mon and you wouldn't have to worry about it. It's something people ask me to do all the time anyway." The fact that the kami didn't seem to _enjoy_ that part of his job made Kenshin relax, feeling more at ease with Yato-sama than he had before. He could trust someone like that because on that level at least, they truly could relate.

The kami's offer was tempting. Beyond tempting...and yet he knew if he backed away from this he would never be able to face himself.

"Thank you," he said again, "but this is my job. I cannot rely on you forever."

Yato-sama looked hurt for just a moment, but in a flash a smile had spread across his features, although it looked more sad than anything. "That's why I like you, kid. You'll go far. I know it. But if you're ever up against someone really tough or a group of people you can't handle, make sure to remember me. Better yet, call me before each confrontation. You may want someone to watch your back."

If Kenshin had been in any other situation, he would have smiled. He couldn't bring himself to do so now, so he just nodded his appreciation.

"Oh," the kami said, "it'll cost you 5 more mon to keep me around."

That did almost break Kenshin's new blanket of numb calm. He even felt the corners of his mouth turn up ever so slightly. Sometimes he could swear the kami held an ancientness about him that bordered on scary, but at other times he just seemed like a little kid that wanted a promised reward. He reached into his shakusho, rummaged around in his pouch and tossed the item he withdrew over his shoulder as he walked by Yato-sama and towards a figure approaching them from the end of the alleyway—his target.

Having a kami guarding his back gave him a bit more confidence than he otherwise would have had and he held his head high. As he moved forward, he ran back over the conversation in his mind and his hand moved to the hilt of his katana.

"For Japan," he whispered, and went to do his job.

xXx

Kenshin took Yato-sama's advice and called on him before every hit. He told few others of Yato-sama—Iizuka, mainly, and he didn't take Kenshin seriously. He didn't want to tell Katsura-sama because he feared that would put his (admittedly already slipping) sanity into question. He didn't want to tell anyone else for more selfish reasons.

If anyone else discovered Yato-sama and what he could do, it could devolve into chaos. Yato-sama could be called by two different humans at any given time and told conflicting wishes. Would he be able to be in two places at once? What would that do to him? What would that do to the humans that called on him? And...what would that do to Kenshin himself if he had no one else to rely on? And that was the worst case scenario if he happened to be called by another imperialist. What if the Shogunte supporters discovered him and what he could do? Somehow, Kenshin knew that even with his skill he couldn't hope to stand up to a kami. Also the idea of fighting Yato-sama with the intent to kill (not that he thought he _could_ kill the deity) sickened him. After all, they were...well, not friends per se, but friendly? Besides Iizuka, Yato-sama was the only person besides Katsura who didn't seem to fear Kenshin in any case.

He could see it in the other's faces as the days wore on. His comrades avoided him, stopped talking when he entered a room, bowed respectfully in greeting but otherwise ignored him almost completely. They didn't want him there.

And he didn't blame them.

"You're being too hard on yourself," Yato-sama said from where he leaned against the wall. Kenshin couldn't help but be impressed at his composure. He looked so relaxed at the moment, not like he was about to go running into battle, but more like he was waiting to be assigned a team in some childish game. Kenshin had called him because there would be a larger group than normal for his assignment this time. The information they'd received said there could be anywhere from two to twenty guards, and while Kenshin felt confident he could fulfill his duty, he didn't want to take the chance. After all, he was living proof that anyone could get lucky. So he called on Yato-sama and asked for his help if it was needed.

It was the first time he'd called on the kami for actual help and not merely a per-assassination pep-talk.

"What do you mean?" Kenshin asked quietly. He didn't like to yell these days. It brought too much attention to him, and Katsura-sama wanted to keep his presence quiet. It also gave him more chance of hiding and thus living, so he gotten into the habit of being and remaining quiet.

"You're still blaming yourself for all of the deaths."

Kenshin almost winced. Yato-sama was right, as usual.

"You think you deserve to be ostracized and feared."

Kenshin didn't say anything. He didn't need to.

"I don't understand it. Kami can exist on their own just fine, but I've come to find out that humans can't. You're just hurting yourself needlessly, you know."

The red-head's hands clenched harder in front of him, the only sign he was listening at all.

Yato-sama frowned, then, after a moment, seemed to come to a decision. "Alright, let me take it this time."

"What?" Kenshin asked, turning to look at the kami for the first time since he'd summoned him.

"Let me take your assignment. You need to take a break."

For several seconds, Kenshin just blinked at the other being, surprised. He'd offered even though he didn't understand why Kenshin didn't want to do this. Yato-sama didn't seem to care one way or another about the lives that would be lost tonight...so why? Then Kenshin shook himself out of the slight daze he'd fallen into at the other's words.

"No, no, I can handle it," he protested, although a flare of gratitude shot through the numbness that had seemed to fall over him lately.

"I'm not saying you can't," Yato-sama continued with a nonchalant shrug. "But everyone deserves a break. This is, what, your fifth assignment in as many days?"

Sixth, actually. He'd had two on Wednesday.

"They need me."

Yato-sama frowned and glanced over, studying Kenshin, who observed this out of the corner of his eye, seeing as he'd looked down again. Then the kami seemed to have an epiphany of some sort because his eyes widened and his features softened.

"Yeah. I get that. If kami aren't remembered for long enough, they can fade from existence." There was something else that reeked of bitterness behind that statement, but Kenshin didn't dare ask. It wasn't his business anyway. Yato-sama went on. "That's something I understand at least. It's nice to feel needed...

"In any case, you already called me here to help you, right? So this is me helping you."

With that he turned and called up to the top of the large tree they stood at the base of. "Hiki." A sword that seemed as if it were made of water formed in his hand. It had a wooden hilt that looked cheap and poorly assembled, and yet there was an air about the sword (Kenshin had seen it many times now and he observed this phenomenon every time) that almost scared the teenager. It was, he imagined, what a true Muramasa blade would feel like.

Yato-sama glanced at him again with the stern expression he got just before a battle—the terrifying one that radiated his intent to kill—and then turned and began to walk towards where the group would appear (any minute now). Kenshin still didn't feel completely at ease with all of this...and yet, he felt that if he stopped Yato-sama, it would be insulting and degrading. So, despite his better judgement, he remained quiet.

When the group did appear, they stopped abruptly, challenging the lone figure that blocked the way before them. When Yato-sama looked up at them, he almost didn't seem like the same person. He wasn't always carefree, and Kenshin would never use the word 'kind' in association with him, but somehow the cold being he'd become for this fight—massacre—was something that both repelled and fascinated Kenshin. The swordsman in him couldn't help but stand in awe at the kami's skill and ability to shut himself off from his feelings. And yet, every time he slashed he seemed to get colder somehow...

Killing humans, it seemed, affected kami too, and not for the better.

For the next minute and a half, Kenshin watched a pure art form and began to realize just what Shishou had been trying to teach him. Hiko, after all, had been a large man and while he'd taught his 'baka deshi' well, Kenshin knew he'd never be able to wield his sword or the Hiten Mitsurugi style as his teacher had. Watching Yato-sama, though, made him realize just what he could do—what he should strive for as a swordsman. The way he wielded the hilt-less blade...

He'd seen 'Hiki' multiple times before, but never in action. It was a disturbing dance, beautiful in it's simple complexity...and how did that even make sense? And yet, it did to Kenshin.

When Yato-sama finished, the street was littered with bodies and stained red. Despite himself, Kenshin couldn't help but feel grateful that the red didn't end up on him...for once. In the center stood the deity himself, as cool and aloof as ever. Kenshin could only stare in a sort of horrified wonder. So this was the power of a kami.

"Return, Hiiro."

Then, to Kenshin's surprise, the sword transformed into a little girl wearing a white kimono. Kenshin blinked in shock. That was the sword of a kami? A person? A _child_?

Suddenly he felt as if he'd missed something. He also didn't like the way the girl stared at him, as if regarding a statue instead of a human being. It was a merciless gaze that did not belong on the face of such a young girl.

"Hiiro, Kenshin. Kenshin, this is my shinki, Hiiro."

"P-pleased to meet you?" Kenshin somehow managed to get out, what few manners that still remained after his tenure with Shishou coming out. He bowed respectfully. It felt strange at a time like this, surrounded by gore and dead.

"Liar," the girl said, and while her smile was kind, it didn't touch her eyes.

"Hiiro!" Yato-sama said, although it didn't sound like a reprimand as more of a resigned reminder.

"Kenshin-san!" Iizuka cut in, carefully stepping over the bodies towards the hitokiri. "Wow, you really did a number on these guys today. You even cut off their ears."

Surprised, Kenshin glanced at several of the corpses. Surely enough, they were missing at least one ear each. He frowned and turned to inquire of Yato-sama, but both he and Hiiro had vanished.

"Kenshin-san?" The teenager withheld a flinch at the other's tone. It was one of wariness. He was probably suspecting (not without reason) that Kenshin's sanity had slipped. Still, while he felt he may never be worthy of calling himself human again, he could still do his job, so he suppressed a sigh and turned to the older man.

"My apologies," he said with a bow. "It was a mistake. It won't happen again."

Iizuka put his hands up. "No, don't worry about it, Kenshin-san. If it's something you want to do, then it's something you want to do. As long as you get your job done, I don't really care. You may want to head back to the inn. I'll meet you there later."

With that, he turned to place the letters that would mark this as an Isshin Shishi attack.

Kenshin wanted to clear up the misunderstanding, but realized that no matter how he protested Iizuki probably wouldn't listen to him. He didn't know why Yato-sama had done that, but somehow he'd taken the fall for him and now his sanity would be called into question. Well, more so than it already was.

"Perhaps he really is a Kami of Calamity," he muttered to himself as he turned and walked away. Only once he got back to the inn did he remember and realize that Iizuka hadn't noticed Yato-sama at all, even when he'd been standing in plain sight. The men he'd gone to kill had seen him though...hadn't they? Had Yato-sama wanted them to see him?

He pondered those puzzles for a little while, until the memories of the night grew fuzzy and began to fade from his mind as they always did.

xXx

Looking for a beta reader


	3. Chapter 3

_Not Beta Read._

Kenshin met Hiiro alone the next day. It was the first day in a week when he actually had time to himself. Truthfully, he hated days like this because his mind wandered—back to the faces of the dead; those whose blood still stained his hands no matter how hard he washed. Or he would start to consider the rumors he'd heard about the new demon hitokiri that most certainly referred to him. Or he would simply wander around Kyoto, avoiding the Shinsengumi and other Shogunte spies as best he could.

He liked doing that best. Walking around gave his body something to do and his mind something to focus on. He liked people watching and figuring out the back alley-ways to the capitol city. It was a pleasant distraction and one that could save his life in the future. So today, he'd decided to do just that and had actually managed to reach a semi relaxed state when something brushed his senses. Activating his sight, he noticed the girl at the end of the alleyway he'd been walking down. She stared at him intently as he approached her.

"Hiiro-san," he greeted uneasily.

She just cocked her head. "So you're his new play thing. Pity, I can't get rid of you like I did the last annoyance."

Kenshin's hand inadvertently went to the hilt of his sword. That sounded like a threat to him.

"But you're helping father's plan, and you let us play last night. I haven't had that much fun with Yato in so long. I guess we'll keep you around for now."

With that, she vanished.

The uneasy feeling he'd gotten at her words didn't.

xXx

After a few more hours of wondering around, surprisingly enough, Kenshin stumbled across Yato-sama, sitting ever so calmly (and rather un-kami-like in his opinion) against a tree looking troubled. This made Kenshin wonder just what kami did on their days off. Didn't they go to their realm or shrine or something? And the way he lounged...he looked more like a petulant three-year-old as opposed to a Kami of Calamity.

Still, Yato-sama had come through for Kenshin on multiple occasions, so perhaps he should judge less and trust more.

Kenshin stood there for several seconds, debating whether he should approach the kami or not. Before he could decide, though, another person, dressed in a long cloak with a cloth covering his head, stopped in front of Yato-sama. The black-haired kami looked up lazily and eyed the figure before him, all traces of his previous worry gone.

"Kazuma," he said. Kenshin balked at the familiar—if wary—way he said it. They obviously knew each other. That sparked Kenshin's curiosity. Was this 'Kazuma' another kami? He doubted it. The newcomer didn't give off the other-worldly sense that Kenshin got from Yato. If anything, this Kazuma seemed to remind him a bit more of Hiiro. He also seemed different from her too, though, and really Kenshin had no idea what that meant.

"Yato-sama," the figure bowed and then handed out a bundle, which the kami took slowly. For a moment he stared at it. Then he glanced up at the figure, a frown firmly in place.

"I don't need your charity."

The figure patently shook his head. "It isn't charity, it's payment. As far as I'm concerned, we will owe you for the rest of eternity."

Yato-sama looked down at the bundle again. The sadness had returned. "She still hates me, though."

"And she will be looking here for you soon. I suggest you leave the area."

Annoyed. That was the expression that crossed Yato-sama's face. Kenshin was sure of it, even though this 'Kazuma' person had stepped between the kami and the teenager's hiding place. Actually, Kenshin was kind of surprised he understood and heard everything from where he hid. And when had he hid? He hadn't meant to. Had he? He didn't really regret it either...

Why did everything involving kami confuse him? Even the seemingly mundane things.

"Fine, fine. I'm gone. Thanks in advance." Funny, he didn't sound that thankful.

"And it seems you may have gotten a follower," Kazuma said. Kenshin could almost feel his eyes on him and flinched. Usually he was good at hiding.

"I wish," Yato-sama muttered. "Get out of here before she starts suspecting something."

"Yes, Yato-sama," Kazuma said. Kenshin watched him bow and walk away. When he did, Kenshin couldn't catch sight of Yato-sama. So he'd actually left as well?

"Evesdropping? How immatjre."

Kenshin didn't jump a meter. With how sudden the voice from behind him _that he hadn't sensed at all_ spoke, that was an accomplishment he could be proud of. He had grabbed for his sword, however, and whirled around to face Yato-sama standing there and looking unimpressed.

"I-I don't want to hear that from you," Kenshin responded. Only after he'd let the words slip out did he realize how childish they'd sounded. To his surprise, instead of reprimanding him immediately for his disrespectful actions towards a kami, Yato-sama smiled a wicked, unrepentant, expectant smile.

"Do you know what I could do to you right now?"

Kenshin looked away petulantly. "Of course I do, Yato-sama."

Yato-sama didn't seem to hear. "I could wreak holy vengeance upon you! And I would be in the right because kami are always just!" Kenshin wasn't sure he believed that, but he did see the futility in continuing like this. He'd managed to regain some of the composure he'd lost. So he put his pride aside and got down on his knees properly. Then he leaned his head towards the ground. "Forgive me, Yato-sama. I did not mean to disrespect you."

He stayed like that for a few seconds, wondering what would happen now. After a few moments, he heard a sigh.

"Yeah, yeah. Just get up. Let's get you home...and maybe some food?"

Kenshin blinked. This...didn't seem like the Yato-sama he'd come to know. He'd seen glimpses of the kami's childish side, but this...

"Y-you need food to live?" Kenshin asked, looking up and rising to his feet.

Yato-sama waved his hand through the air. "Nah. I can feel hunger though. Besides, I need a place to crash for the evening."

Kenshin blinked in surprise, but saw little reason to deny the deity that had done so much for him. "O-of course, Yato-sama. Whatever you want."

"Oh," Yato-sama said as he turned to walk away, "you should turn your sight off. It's starting to attract ayakashi."

This time, the red-head did take a step back, hand falling to the hilt of his sword again as he glanced around. There did seem to be more of those strange floating creatures from before...and scampering ones, and flying ones...

Gulping, Kenshin took a deep breath, forcing his body to relax. When he opened his eyes again, the monsters had vanished. He breathed a sigh of relief, despite knowing that they were all still there.

"You coming or not?" someone...oh, wait, Yato-sama. Yeah, that was Yato-sama yelling to him. Right. How could he forget that?

"Yes!" he called and dived into the crowded street head-first. He wondered what it would be like to have Yato-sama over as a guest.

xXx

Every now and then, when Kenshin had done something _particularly_ stupid, Hiko would just stand there silently while his left eye twitched. Those instances had always been the worst. Like when he'd ruined Hiko's favorite mug or when he started talking about leaving. Once Hiko hadn't spoken to him for days. He'd practically ignore his 'baka'-deshi and just sit there with that twitching eye whenever Kenshin had tried talking.

Kenshin, himself, had never felt anger or annoyance to that kind to that magnitude.

Until now.

And all he could do was sit there at the side of the room with his hands clenched in his lap because if they moved, he would probably use them to try and take off Yato-sama's head. No one else seemed to notice him, which proved to be a definite plus because the kami _could not,_ it seemed, sit still. He constantly nabbed things off of other Imperialist member's trays without them noticing and he would talk about the most inane things. The worst part was that Kenshin couldn't actually _say_ anything to him without drawing unwanted attention.

"Look at this guy, Kenshin-kun!" His cheek twitched, right under his eye. "I can't believe he wears his hair like that! I mean, that style went out of style decades ago! Want to help me shave it off?" _Twitch._

"Hey! Did you take my bun?" yet another of the men seated in the room accused a fellow Imperialist.

"Of course not!"

"It had to be you! No one else could do it!"

 _Twitch._

He did not get it. This guy...he couldn't be a real kami. How could he possibly be so awe-inspiring one minute, and...well... _this_ the next?!

 _Crash_.

"Hey! Watch where you're going!"

"I didn't touch you!"

"Then who bumped into me?! It sure wasn't a ghost now, was it?"

"Are you questioning my word?"

 _Twitch._

"Are these really your companions, Kenshin-kun? You're meters above them, easy! Look at this guy, he has no balance!"

"Whoa!"

 _Crash._

 _Twitch._

He had to get out of there or he may very well snap and just kill everyone in the lousy room! He wasn't sure he could explain that to Katsura-sama...or himself...or the vengeful kami that had _started this whole thing!_

So he did the only thing he could. Ever so slowly, he rose to his feet, not noticing or caring how the men on either side of him backed away. Then, making sure to leave his hands firmly in front of him (he would not allow them to creep up and towards his sword, he would not!), he walked towards the door. He was almost 16 years old—most definitely the youngest man there—and yet every single warrior, no matter the age, stepped away from him.

 _Crash_. Another catastrophe behind him caused him to jerk slightly. The guy in front of him almost fainted.

 _Twitch._

He made it outside the door and went slowly to the fenced-in back area. He really needed to hit something.

"Hey, Kenshin-kun, where're ya goin'?" An arm somehow snaked over his shoulder, causing Kenshin to freeze. He turned and glanced at the kami beside him.

"Hey, that's some good killer intent you got coming off of you."

For the first time in a very long time, he envied Shishou. Shishou who seemed to always have control over everything. Shishou who had somehow managed the restraint of not killing Kenshin right off, because if Kenshin had ever been this annoying, his master had probably reached enlightenment by now simply for tolerating his baka-deshi's presence.

Kenshin didn't like being touched normally. He definitely didn't want to be touched now. So he simply glared up at the slightly taller kami, and knocked the other's hand off of his shoulder.

"You truly are a Kami of Calamity," was all he could think of saying before he turned and walked to the target practice. He didn't notice the near look of pain on Yato-sama's face.

Kenshin didn't know when Yato-sama left, nor did he care.

xXx

Not two days later, Kenshin came back with a new scar on his cheek.

xXx

Kenshin did not call on Yato for the next few missions, mainly out of sheer principle, but after a week of not seeing him at all, Kenshin began to realize just how much he'd come to rely on the kami's presence...when he could remember (which seemed to get harder to do the longer the kami was gone). The lack of interaction with anyone but Iizuka was wearing on him, and his uneasiness, no matter how much he tried to hide it, was starting to show. Still, he put off calling on the kami, forcefully reminding himself just how irritated the other had made him.

Two weeks passed. Then three. Then more. It was getting to a point where he had decided to forgive the kami...and then he would forget about him for hours at a time before something else would remind him that another presence used to be in his life.

He spent longer and longer by the water barrel after each mission because the smell of blood simply _would not_ go away, but surely Yato-sama's presence wouldn't change that fact, would it? And while Iizuka assured him that he was getting better, he felt as if he'd only become clumsier. How long until he actually failed a mission? He tried to emulate what he'd seen Yato-sama do every time he drew his sword, but somehow it felt wrong to even attempt without the other being there.

And then, one night, he'd been drinking at a local inn. It worried him how even the _sake_ tasted like blood. His shishou's words about good sake and how it should taste ran through his mind, and he decided he'd had enough for the night. He needed to ask Yato-sama about this. Was this normal? Was it a byproduct of the sight? Or...or was it something else? And besides, he'd missed the kami's company. Was that blasphemous somehow? To be so casual towards a kami? Even a kami as childish as Yato-sama...

The attacker came out of nowhere. He was skilled and Kenshin didn't think he'd ever gone up against someone like that before—someone who could _push_ him like that. He was almost disappointed when he sliced the man down the middle as he'd seen Yato-sama do once surprised that his clumsy moves had managed to defeat the other man. Then it was over and he stood there in the after math as the rain came down around him, not really doing much to wash the mess away, but gathering it stagnant, smelly pools instead.

Then he heard the sound behind him and whirled around, stomach clenching in horror. If someone had seen that he'd have to...

The woman he saw stood with a sort of dazed shock, a splatter of red blood staining her pale kimono. Kenshin had never seen anything so beautiful or so horrible in his entire life. For several seconds she just stared at him, and then her mouth opened.

"You...truly make the bloody rain."

He could see her tottering and somehow his body acted out of instinct, diving forward and catching her before she could hit the muddy road.

In the panic and haste and confusion that followed for him, he forgot that he'd been intending to call Yato-sama that evening.


	4. Chapter 4

Note: Spoilers for Kenshin. Probably should have put that there are spoilers for Noragami in the other chapters but I didn't think it warrented a warning.

xXx

"I didn't think you'd call upon a Kami of Calamity again," was the first thing Yato-sama said when he appeared before Kenshin. The hitokiri flinched. He had said that, hadn't he.

He bowed low. "My apologies, Yato-sama. I was...frustrated and I should not have said what I did. If...you're willing to forgive me," he held out his hand and the 5 mon piece on it, "I have a request."

Yato-sama was torn. Kenshin could see it clearly. He wanted the money, and yet he didn't seem to want to forgive Kenshin. Eventually his practical (more greedy, a part of Kenshin's mind whispered) side won out and he scooped the money off of Kenshin's hand.

"What is it you want done?" the kami asked, nose in the air. Kenshin almost wanted to sigh in fond exasperation. Yes, it annoyed him, but he'd still missed this. A knot he hadn't really known was there began to unravel in his chest simply with the familiar presence.

"Before I wish," Kenshin said slowly, "may I ask why you are collecting mon?" He'd actually wondered before, but hadn't ever had the guts to ask. After the kami's previous display, though, he felt their relationship had changed. He had yet to determine if that was for good or ill. Still, asking this didn't really worry him anymore, so he decided to indulge himself.

Yato-sama watched Kenshin for several seconds as if weighing his options against the red-head's very soul. He must have at least accepted what he'd found because he answered.

"Because I...want a shrine."

The hitokiri blinked as his mind processed that.

"Wait...you don't have a shrine? Anywhere?"

Yato-sama looked away petulantly. "So what of it?"

Kenshin thought about that for a minute. "Yes, I suppose that makes sense. Were I in your place, I would most likely want a shrine too."

Despite himself, the kami relaxed. Kenshin could see it in the way he slumped ever so slightly.

"So, are you gonna wish or not?"

Kenshin, again, wanted to sigh. Not for the first time, he wondered exactly how kami aged. Was this really some child in an adult's body?

"I wish for you to protect someone," Kenshin finally said, his voice soft. Yato turned to him, eyes wide, probably with surprise that the red-head had actually come out and said it like that. Perhaps it was an unusual request for a Kami of Calamity, but it was one Kenshin desperately needed, if only for his peace of mind. "I must go on a mission and...I don't want to leave her alone. The only one I trust is you, Yato-sama."

The kami looked entirely too pleased with that declaration, but he also seemed to snap into battle mode. Gone was the petulant child, replaced with only an eager one—an eager child who knew how to do his job. Again, it was different than the kami he usually saw—the one that didn't like to kill people. Was this the first time someone had called on him since he and Kenshin had last spoken?

"Kill anyone that threatens her?"

Kenshin frowned. "I don't know if anyone will, but yes, that is my wish."

"Sounds boring," Yato-sama muttered. Kenshin wasn't sure if he was putting on a face now, or if his eager one before had been the mask. Either way, he seemed to catch the affronted glint in Kenshin's eye because he almost immediately changed his tune right back. "But you truly wish this. It will give you the peace of mind you need for your next assignment." He flicked the mon piece into the air and caught it.

"Your wish has reached me. Just, hurry back."

Kenshin felt as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulder. "Thank you, Yato-sama! Her name is—"

"Yukishiro Tomoe. I told you your wish had reached me. Go."

Kenshin nodded and turned to begin to walk off down the street, his face already hardening and his scar bleeding.

Yato watched the hitokiri leave, his eyes on the cut and the small ayakashi attached to it. Good thing the kid hadn't noticed. That was no ordinary scar and it wouldn't heal unless drastic measures were taken. Ah well, he'd speak about it with Kenshin later.

xXx

Nora was _not_ happy. Here she'd gone and made an exception for Yato's new toy and he'd stopped making Yato happy. He'd stopped calling them to have _fun_. Nora didn't know for how many weeks it had been going on—she'd long since lost the capacity to care about the passage of time—but she was getting bored and this was getting out of hand because Yato seemed to listen to father less and less. It was just like that time with Sakura, useless Shinki that she'd been.

Nora grit her teeth as the red-headed human _finally_ summoned Yato again, like they only lived to serve _his_ whims and not Father's! Like Yato was some common delivery boy, not a kami. She's been willing to let it all pass for a while, but, she realized, she'd have to do _something_ about this. Not now, perhaps, but soon.

xXx

Kenshin ran through the forest outside of Kyoto, Tomoe's hand clutched firmly in his. He'd asked Yato-sama to protect Katsura this time and now Kyoto burned behind them. They had to hide, and he'd been given directions to the safe house that may very well save their lives. His and Tomoe's.

His and his wife's.

Katsura had pronounced them married, and Kenshin didn't really think he should feel both this elated and this despondent at the same time. Kyoto was burning...and Tomoe was his.

He couldn't bring himself to completely suppress his smile.

xXx

The first thing Kenshin did when they got to the safe house, was start a garden.

The second thing he did was start to gather materials for a shrine that would last the ages. After all, it was the least he could do. Besides, maybe it would calm the silly kami down a bit.

He smiled as he cleared a small area where he would start to build the shrine.

xXx

The longer Kenshin stayed away from battle, the more time it took for him to remember Yato and that little space he'd cleared in back for the shrine. He didn't call on Yato-sama at all these days, not wanting to take him away from his current job of protecting Katsura. Kenshin wondered if Yato-sama had seen his request as fleeting or permanent? Would he protect the Imperialist leader for a few hours or would he take it to heart and protect him until Kenshin came back? Before the thought could really take root, though, he would recall he had to finish collecting herbs or that the wood needed to be chopped or the garden weeded.

Somehow building the shrine took far longer than he felt it should, but he just couldn't remember.

The shrine had almost been finished when Tomoe's little brother showed up.

She disappeared the next day.

xXx

The world whirled around Kenshin in a maelstrom of white, brown and red: white for the icy snow that fell in a peaceful silence—a rather drastic confliction with the blizzard inside his heart and head; brown for the trees and the bark that whipped past him as he ran; and the red kept dripping in his mind onto the page of the journal he'd read.

Why?

Alright, he knew why she'd come for him. He didn't blame her for that...but the way she'd acted. She'd told him she loved him and proved it time and again. She'd said she was his sheath and had stood with him so often. She'd had multiple opportunities to kill him, and yet she'd let him live. She'd even wrote that she would try and stop his assassination...

 _Why_? None of it made any _sense_!

Part of him wanted to curl away from the rest of the world and just let what was left of his heart die with the betrayal that had come with the kanji in the journal, but most of him couldn't let her get hurt. Most of him would have gone after her even if she'd openly stated at the end that she wanted to lure him into a trap. Most of him couldn't imagine his life without her.

He stopped a few kilometers from the safe house for the first time, panting for breath. He'd really let himself get soft if he was starting to push himself already. He...wasn't sure he could do this alone. He needed help. He needed...

Thrusting his hand into the pouch he always carried with him, he prayed he would have enough on him and nearly melted in relief when he recognized the dull, metallic coins on his palm. Taking a deep breath he closed his eyes and tossed the correct coin into the air.

"Yato-sama! Please help me rescue her!" He clapped his hands twice and prayed as hard as he ever had.

"So, you _do_ remember me." The voice sounded petulant and childish and familiar and Kenshin would have fallen to his knees in relief in any other situation. Instead, he forced himself to walk (stumble) forward, towards the figure that had appeared in the snow in front of him.

"They took her!" he exclaimed.

Yato-sama looked surprised, probably because it would be the first time he'd seen Kenshin in a state of actual panic. Kenshin tried not to show it to anyone else, but Yato-sama could sense emotions anyway, right? He didn't know and had always just assumed so. Thus, he saw no reason to hide his desperation.

To his credit, the kami reacted rather calmly. "Wait, they what? Who took her? Her being that girl you were always with?"

"Yes! Tomoe!" Kenshin said and then realized he had other questions to answer. Forcing himself to clam down, he took a few deep breaths and struggled to find his center. "I don't know who they are exactly, but...they are all my enemies. My personal enemies and I didn't even know they existed. Families and friends of those I have killed. They want revenge. Tomoe was with them, but she decided to try and stop them from coming after me instead. I...don't know why." Or he didn't believe it...but he didn't _not_ believe it... This was getting confusing even to him and it did nothing to stop his head from swimming. He took another deep breath.

"They took her captive instead and I need your help! Please, Yato-sama!"

The expression he wore at Kenshin's words wasn't readable, which surprised Kenshin. He'd figured that yes or no he'd be able to tell right away. The lack of response worried him more than a negative one.

"I...know the group you speak of," he finally said and he looked into the distance—the direction Kenshin had been heading. Something in his tone struck a chill in Kenshin's heart. "It comes with the ability to sense and grant wishes. I..." He faded off.

"Speak plainly," he finally said. Yato-sama turned to him again, simply blinking. Kenshin steeled himself. "I need to know what is wrong before I go in. If I go while missing a detail, it could kill me...or her. So speak plainly and tell me what is wrong."

This time, Yato-sama smiled ever so slightly, looking rather impressed. Then he shook his head. "They've called on...an acquaintance of mine. He is, well, like me."

Kenshin felt his face pale. The people holding Tomoe would probably be high-class warriors in their own right. To have a Kami of Calamity on top of that... But if that's what stood between him and Tomoe, then so be it. He would tear down anything in his path.

"Don't worry, kid," Yato-sama finally said, "your wish has reached me. I'll hold him off. It's been a while since I've had a good fight anyway. Thing is, he'll be a handful on his own. If I fight him in the same area you are, there's a good chance you and everyone else there might die, so I'll have to lure him away. Right now, it's the best I can do. I don't even know if I can really kill him."

Kenshin tried to swallow past the lump in his throat. He _really_ wanted Yato-sama there with him, but he understood that he couldn't hope to fight a kami and win. Not that that wouldn't stop him from trying, but really, Yato-sam was giving him a chance that he wouldn't otherwise have. It scared him, to go up against an unknown amount of assailants alone, but he'd been ready to tear apart anything that stood in his path before, and that hadn't changed now. He wanted the deity there, but if he had to do it alone, then so be it.

So he took a deep breath and bowed low. "Thank you, Yato-sama. I won't forget this."

Somehow, like always, just speaking with Yato-sama had helped him find his center. He turned and prepared to run again.

"Hey," Yato-sama said, "see you at the end. You still have a shrine to finish."

Kenshin regarded the dark-haired kami for a few moments before nodding and then he dashed through the woods towards his wife.

xXx

Tomoe found herself surprised that she felt peace; a sad sort of wistful peace, but peace none the less. It was a peace born of pain because really, she deserved this for falling in love with her faience's murderer. Her only regret was that she wouldn't be able to stay with Kenshin anymore, and from the look on his face, he felt the same. She relaxed in relief. He didn't hate her. That was more than she could have asked for.

She knew she was dying. The blackness creeping in at the edges of her vision and the pain in her...(well, she couldn't feel much pain anymore) told her that. Still, she had to say something. She stared into the blue-violet eyes brimming with tears as he looked down at her.

"Why?" he asked, his voice harsh and croaking. He sat there, covered in blood, unable to really hear or see, and yet he'd never looked more handsome to her.

"It's alright," she managed to say, "so please don't cry." She still had the tanto in her hand, and was that blackness also focused around the scar on his face? She had to get that off. She didn't know why, but something inside of her begged her to erase the blackness from that scar. It almost looked like it had eyes.

Using the last of her strength, she reached up and cut through it. The blackness, for some reason, almost seemed to recognize her and it vanished as her hand fell into the snow and the blackness took over her vision completely. Now if only she could have seen Enishi one last time...

xXx

"Eh," Rabo muttered as he picked up his sword from where Yato had thrown it, "it looks like my benefactor is dead and yours isn't."

"We agreed," Yato returned, rubbing the side of his rib cage and otherwise ignoring the blood his hand found there. "Whoever won that fight would win this one."

Rabo frowned, "Neither side won this one," he muttered. "And you owe me. I didn't get to kill anyone."

Yato wanted to return the frown, but Rabo wasn't someone he could be carefree around. "Yeah, whatever," Yato agreed, not liking it but recognizing when he should pick his battles.

"Congratulate your kid," Rabo said as he strode away. "There aren't many who get on my list that live."

Yato didn't say anything. He didn't need to.

The moment he couldn't sense Rabo's presence anymore, he turned and sprinted back through the woods. It didn't even take him five minutes before he found Kenshin sitting in the snow holding a bleeding girl. Judging by the spirit that stood next to her, she was already dead. Yato swore.

When he approached, he did so carefully. The kid was in bad condition, he could tell. He had to get him out of the cold or...well, it would be interesting to see what kind of a shinki he would make. For several seconds, Yato stood there with his head cocked to one side, contemplating the scene. Then he heard a voice, soft and desperate.

" _Save him_."

His eyes found the spirit of the girl. She wasn't going to be sticking around for very long as she seemed to have already prepared to move on. She'd found her peace during her life. And yet her eyes shone with unshed tears.

" _Please! He'll die if he stays here! He must live!_ "

Yato's head cocked again, this time to the other side. "Why?" he asked.

She looked down at him again and the tears began to flow. " _Because he can change the world._ "

The kami contemplated that for a few minutes. He had little doubt this kid could change the world if he lived, but did it matter?

But if Kenshin died, who would remember him?

He pushed thoughts of his father to the back of his mind.

Kenshin was his first and only consistent believer. It had only been a few years, but he'd grown close to the kid, and he'd be lying if he said he didn't want Kenshin to live.

"Very well," he finally said, sighing at how much effort this would probably take, "your wish has reached me. But one of you owes me 5 mon."

The woman's face lit up. " _Take my tanto. It is yours. Thank you,_ " she said as she bowed deeply. " _Thank you, so much._ "

With that, she vanished with a flash of light. Yato stared at the spot she'd been in for a few moments before turning with a sigh.

"Kenshin?" he asked, snapping his hand in front of the kid's face. He didn't respond. Well, that wasn't good. He'd seen people not respond after something like this. They usually died. So he put an arm under Kenshin's side. "Come on, kid. Let's get you home."

At that moment, the head of red-hair lolled forward in a dead faint. Yato's frown deepened.

"Hiiro." The girl in the white kimono appeared beside him in the snow, looking extremely unhappy.

"Father wouldn't approve of saving him."

"It was a wish."

Her frown deepened. "You didn't even get any money for it."

Yato grit his teeth as he swung the kid up and into his arms. "I will. Now go back and set a bed out."

She still didn't look happy, but she did go ahead of him. He just hoped she hadn't run away. He had no idea how to deal with sick people...except to kill them of course. Maybe that's why he and 'Battosai'—as people were starting to call him—got on so well; they really were a lot alike.

xXx

Nora noticed the shrine the moment she stepped onto the property. For a few moments she just stared at it. Then she took a step towards it. Then another. Soon she was running and jumping and kicking and wood flew everywhere. She grabbed a stone and beat what still stood to the ground. By the time she finished, few would be able to tell anyone had tried to build anything.

There. Yato belonged to father and that was that. He always would. She would make sure of it.

Satisfied with her work, she turned to complete the (rather unpleasant) task Yato had given her.

xXx

Yato didn't know what had happened to the shrine. He'd known Kenshin had been working on one (had been shocked, even, when he'd dropped by once when Katsura had been near and had seen the kid working on it) but when he stepped onto the property, he could no longer sense it. He didn't know why. It hadn't even been finished...and now it was gone. His gut clenched, and it had nothing to do with the wound right under his rib cage.

At his side, Kenshin groaned and Yato put the thought on the back-burner. The kid had been building him a shrine. There was no reason to believe he wouldn't redo it. Even if he had lost the girl...

The wish came first anyway. After all, if Kenshin didn't live, then who would build that shrine again? It wasn't like he cared about the kid. It wasn't.

He'd have to go and get a healer after this too. That's what happened to humans who couldn't repair themselves, wasn't it?

He got the kid inside and lying down. Hiiro was no where to be seen, but at least she'd done as he'd said. He felt relief and gratitude towards her. Then he frowned as he looked at Kenshin's prone body. Should he cover him or not? He'd seen sick people and they always had a blanket on them. So he spread one out over the kid.

Then he left, asking the nearest farm-stead where he could find a healer. They gave him directions and even told him they would go and watch over Kenshin while Yato was gone. He appreciated their insight and nodded in appreciation before bounding off to follow their directions, hoping they'd remember him long enough to get to Kenshin's little hut.

xXx

He sat beside Kenshin for the next several days, not caring if anyone could see him or not. The kid never woke. Then the guy Kenshin had asked him to watch over, Katsura, came. The man had never acknowledged him before, and yet his eyes found Yato almost the moment he stepped in the doorway.

Katsura asked the neighbor who had stayed to watch over Kenshin if he could have a few moments alone. The man seemed to find this request unusual, but acquiesced anyway. As soon as the door had closed, Katsura knelt down by Kenshin's side, across from Yato.

"I'm guessing you're the kami that Kenshin-san always spoke of," he said quietly. Yato didn't respond, only raising one eyebrow, half in challenge, half in curiosity. "He asked you to watch over me, I'm guessing, because you seem familiar to me. And yet, I've never seen you before in my life, at least not to my recollection."

"I'm surprised you can see me at all," Yato finally deigned to reply.

The larger man shrugged. "I am as well. But you don't seem like you're trying to hide your presence."

Yato shrugged. "Usually don't need to."

"Perhaps it is second nature to hide yourself. If that is the case, I am pleased to see you care for my subordinate enough to lose concentration."

The kami frowned. "Maybe you just have a weak seer's ability."

"Perhaps." Or, most likely, it was a combination of both, not that Yato would ever admit that aloud.

The man and the kami sat in silence for several seconds before Katsura spoke again. "From what I was told by Iizuka, you grant any wish. Is that correct?"

Somehow his tone rubbed Yato wrong. "Yes," he replied slowly, wishing that Hiiro was there. He hadn't seen her since he'd asked her to lay out the bedding.

"For 5 mon, correct?"

Again, Yato nodded. The man had to have an excellent memory. "Yes."

"Then I have a favor to ask of you. Please, take away his memories."

The kami's frown deepened. "Humans don't like losing their memories."

"No, but can you do it?"

He didn't like admitting it, but he also didn't want to lie to this man either, not when he seemed to care so much about Kenshin. That definitely counted for something in Yato's book.

"Yes."

The man reached under his cloak and pulled out a small, metal coin. It shone, even in the dim light. Yato stared at it for several seconds. Something about this all seemed off, but his mind couldn't catch hold of what it was. Finally he reached out and swiped the piece from him.

"Fine. Your wish has reached me. You want me to erase his memories of her?"

"No. I want you to erase his memories of you."

Yato started, eyes whipping up to glare at the man so fast it made his head swirl. "What?" He tried to ignore how that corresponded with the wish echoing in his heart. "Why?"

Katsura shook his head. "I can see it now, the hand of the kami in his work. He's good...but not that good. At least, he wasn't when I hired him. He's attracted too much attention because of it. His reputation and his obvious skill...it's part of the reason that this happened to him. That...and we were betrayed."

The kami actually snarled at that. "Send me after—"

Katsura cut him off. "I've already taken care of it."

"But—"

"Please, kami-sama. He cannot continue with this kind of reputation. He cannot continue to rely on you—a Kami of Calamity." He had a _really_ good memory...or he'd somehow done his research, because how else could he possibly know that? And just who had mentioned it to him? That traitor guy? Somehow, the way Katsura had said Iizuka's name made him think that that's who it was. Yeah, it had to be him that told Katsura, because he doubted Kenshin ever had.

The Imperialist Leader continued. "If he does continue as he has before, it will undo him."

"Why not erase the memories of her?" Yato asked, hating how desperate he sounded.

"Because she gave him respite in the sea of blood I almost drowned him in. I fear that taking such away from him would undo him just as surely as your continued presence. They call him a demon and I'm positive he'd begun to believe them before he left."

"Taking away those memories won't take away his reputation," Yato argued, refusing to give in. Besides, he wasn't completely sure he could erase every memory simply because Kenshin had possessed the 'sight' for too long. He doubted even a high-ranked kami could remove it completely now.

"No, but it will allow for some damage control. I will be taking him off of hitokiri duty...if he chooses to return. Any reputation he maintains will be of his own make, and not a supernatural one. If he maintains the reputation he has now, he will maintain the enemies he has made—you have made. Tell me, can he stand up to the enemies of a kami?" Yato didn't answer. He didn't have to. "Will you always be there to protect him? Or do you have other duties you must attend to?" He imagined trying to explain all of this to father—to let him know that he had someone he had to protect instead of doing the man's bidding. It wasn't pretty.

"I am afraid that the damage is already done, but as of now, people will see the stories as an exaggeration and his enemies will remain human alone. He is too loyal to forget you himself, whether he sees you as a friend or a mentor or a kami. He will constantly put himself in danger for you, and it will kill him.

"So I ask you again," the man said as he put his hands on the ground in front of him and then bowed until he touched them with his forehead. "Please, remove his memories of you and of all kami. It is the best way I can think of to make sure that nothing like this—nothing _worse_ —ever happens to him again."

Yato wasn't sure what he felt at that moment, but he did _not_ like it. It _hurt._ It stung of loss and sadness and fear and a plethora of other things that he didn't usually feel.

"You don't know what you're asking," he whispered, thinking of the ruins of the shrine in the garden. Kenshin was supposed to build it. How could he restart the project if he couldn't _remember_? And what would it be like, wandering around Kyoto and seeing the kid and not being able to _talk_ to him?

"Nevertheless, for Himura Kenshin's sake, I must ask it." Another coin appeared on the ground where Katsura had originally laid the other one.

It wasn't enough.

Nothing could make up for what this man asked.

Yato stared at the coins. He could refuse. There was nothing stopping him from rejecting this man and his stupid wish...and yet. The idea of Kenshin dying—leaving this world to never return—filled him with a fear and dread he'd never felt before. Now he knew it had nothing to do with the shrine. The closest he'd come to feeling like this before had been Sakura...

Besides, if they continued like this and Rabo or Father or...someone of that caliber got to him, there was no guarantee his spirit would stay so Yato could turn him into a shinki if he did die, and if he didn't...even if he didn't build Yato's shrine, the idea of the red-head just leaving and never returning hurt just as badly as the idea of Kenshin never remembering him. No, worse.

He didn't understand! This made no sense at all!

And yet...

"Very well," he heard his voice choke out as he reached over and grabbed the second coin. "Your wish has reached me." The money felt like slime in his hands. He stared at it for several seconds before reaching out with his other limb and placing his hand over Kenshin's forehead. The room glowed, and then the light faded from his fingers and he stood. He couldn't stay there, not anymore. Not like this.

Just as he reached the door, Katsura's voice sounded. "Thank you, Kami-sama."

Yato didn't answer. Instead, he rushed outside and bounded across the snow, hoping to find Hiiro and then maybe Rabo. Or perhaps he'd find a village to slaughter or _something_ to take his mind off of the aching hole in his soul.

xXx

AN: Because it probably won't come up in the story, I would like to note that the reason why Katsura knew so much was because Nora went to him and told him more or less everything. Yeah, we can blame everything on her.

Not beta read.


	5. Epilogue

_Not Beta Read._

The days following Kenshin's official return to the war gave him far more difficulty than he would wish to admit to. He tended to remember them as a sort of hazy drudgery that he would have given almost anything to escape. Despite the fact that he'd given up being a hitokiri, the lack of a certain people more than made up for it. His failure towards her continued to grind his mental reserves to dust and he wondered how two (three? But his mind usually dismissed such silly notions when he tried to correct himself like that) presences—Tomoe and Iizuka—had really left such a hole in his life.

His comrades in the Isshin Shishi still avoided him and he'd come to discover that, unfortunately, his reputation as a demon had spread through both the Imperialists and the Shogunte supporters. The only people who ever approached him either had no other choice, or they wanted a fight. He soldiered on as he had promised her he would, but truthfully it was suffocating. He'd never felt so alone.

Still, he fought because if he didn't then her sacrifice would mean nothing. He would continue to live for both of them and make his ultimate goal to reach a point where he could leave his sword behind once and for all. He began to dream of a day when he wouldn't have to hurt or kill at all. He didn't want to kill people no matter who they supported. He never had. After all, he'd only joined the war because he wanted to help Japan. It just seemed that wherever he went, those he came into contact with ended up the worse for it.

Story of his life.

The rotten icing on the cake that became his miserable life, though, led back to the strange nostalgia he felt before a mission or protection detail. He didn't know what it meant or what it related to, nor did he know why he felt so particularly lonely when it came to mind. He couldn't even begin to guess at why the strangest things would trigger it; someone tripping and making a spectacle of themselves, or a particularly skilled warrior showing off his ability. He did know he'd do anything to figure out what the nostalgia meant, but then something would distract him and just about any thought related to the odd feeling would vanish as if it had never existed.

At first, he chalked it up to Tomoe being gone even though this felt different than when he thought of those few, precious, happy days with her. It felt...more. Like something else beside her was missing too—like he'd forgotten something. He still gave her credit, though, because, who else could it be? Not the traitor...but he hadn't really known anyone else.

Had he?

Over the course of the remaining years of the war, the feeling continued to fade...but he doubted it would ever leave him completely.

xXx

They'd won the war. Kenshin almost couldn't believe it—couldn't wrap his head around the thought that this nightmarish chapter of his life had _finally_ ended. The thought that he would wake up tomorrow on the road somewhere and not at the inn he'd spent most of the last four years of his life in just seemed _surreal._

It wasn't that he didn't feel relieved that the Imperialists had won, and it certainly didn't mean that he regretted joining the war, but his relief at finally being able to _leave_ all of this behind him far outweighed anything else he may feel at the moment.

He glanced down at the sword strapped to his side now. The sword that had the strange, reversed blade on it. Would that help him? Could he truly never give up the sword now that he could make good on his vow to never kill again? The old weapon-smith's words rang in his mind, telling him that he was a fool to think he could simply give that kind of power up. He didn't want to believe the man, and yet...better to be safe than sorry.

His eyes returned to the road before him just as something brushed his senses. He frowned and stopped, looking around warily with his hand on the hilt of his sword. The path ahead of him stretched through the woods, empty for as far as he could see...and yet, he could swear someone was there.

He narrowed his eyes, looking around slowly again and throwing out his ki senses. Yes, there was a definite presence but...

Then his eyes widened because somehow, just ahead of him, a man (he could swear that he hadn't been there before) sat by the side of the road leaning against a tree nonchalantly. He had dark hair pulled into a topknot, but his clothes weren't anything special. So an imperialist? And why hadn't Kenshin noticed him earlier? There was something off about this man...

And yet, why did he seem so well-known?

Warily, Kenshin approached the figure, eventually coming to a stop in front of him.

"Excuse me," he said softly.

The man looked up and Kenshin had to stifle a gasp. The man had _blue_ eyes deeper than the ocean somehow. Kenshin was sure he'd never seen a man with blue eyes before, and yet they looked _so familiar._

"Yes?" the man asked, cocking his head to one side.

"Do I...know you?"

The man stared long and hard at Kenshin, who would have shuffled under the scrutiny if he hadn't had the discipline he'd gained after four long years of fighting.

"I just left my father, hopefully for good, and cast away the only friend I've ever had. My enemies...they are not normal enemies, and they never will be."

Kenshin cocked his head to one side in confusion. "Oro?" he asked, then put a hand to his mouth in surprise. The odd sound had just left his lips. It didn't really mean anything, but he'd meant to say...well... _something_ to the man's strange non-sequeter.

"I may be able to forget that one day," the man muttered, ignoring Kenshin's unusual response. "Or maybe it will stop being a problem, but for now, no. I've never seen you before in my life."

Kenshin frowned at the strange answer. _Are you sure?_ He wanted to ask, but the words stuck in his mouth.

"My apologies, then," he muttered and bowed slightly. "I will be on my way."

The man nodded. "Don't die."

Kenshin paused at the strange words, a phantom memory flitting across his mind. Something told him that it was the man's way of saying he should take care of himself and travel safely. Then the familiarity faded and he was left with nothing but that same, empty feeling of nostalgia that made no sense. Still, he nodded in acknowledgment before he turned to walk away, wondering why a tear rolled down his cheek. He wiped it away and ignored the feeling of loss that grew inside of him (because really, what was he losing right now?).

Not ten minutes later, he'd forgotten that he'd ever met anyone on the road to begin with.

END

AN: I'd like to think that Kenshin did remember Yato just before he died. May do a story about that, but for now, well, this story was always destined to end sadly. Sorry.


End file.
